Goodbye, Dear Evening
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: She spoke to him, her voice as sweet as chocolate, just as tempting. Yet Howl ignored her.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Howl's Moving Castle or any of its characters.

**Goodbye, Dear Evening****  
**

" Howl."

Her soft voice was the first thing that he heard when he woke up. Then, when he fully opened his eyes, he could see her standing at the foot of his bed, staring back at him with a gentle, warm gaze.

" Good morning," she said sweetly, as she had done many times before.

His eyes instead flicked to his right, where the right side of the bed was slightly rumpled and the covers were crinkled. The person who he was looking for wasn't there when he had last remembered.

A frown marred her pretty face. " She's not here," she scowled, her young face crinkling in revulsion as if remembering something unpleasant. He continued to stare at the tangled sheets, as if he stared long enough, that person would reappear there. She spoke in a louder voice. " That doesn't matter. You have me after all."

Finally tearing his eyes from the empty bed, Howl stood and strolled to the bathroom, brushing past her without even a blink. Huffing indignantly, she followed him, until he closed the bathroom door in front of her face with a curt snap.

" Well, that was rude," she said with an angry snarl. Like a wild cat. She began pounding on the door furiously. " Howl! Open up! Right now! I know you can hear me!" When the roar of running water nearly drowned out her frustrated yells, she merely yelled harder. " This is silly! You're acting like a child!" she shouted through the rushing of hot water as she insistently banged her tiny fists on the door.

After a while, she gave up and sat at the bottom of the door, glaring at the puffs of steam wafting through the creaks of the door. She muttered several curses, all directed at him and a few towards certain others as well. She itched to get her slender fingers around his neck for the vexation and grief he has caused a lady such as herself.

It was well after two hours when Howl subsequently came out of the bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped delicately around his neck. She had dozed off, head bobbing, a light snore escaping from her dainty lips. He swept past her without a word.

She awakened when she thought she heard the creak of a door. Yawning hugely, she found the bathroom door was wide open and no one was in it. Sleepiness evaporating instantly, she leaped to her feet with an unholy shriek. How dare Howl slip past her again? She wouldn't put it past him to have put a sleeping spell on her in the first place to distract her. She fervently stalked back to Howl's room, where thankfully, he happened to still be there, trying to decide what to wear for the day.

" There you are, Howl," she smiled, elegantly concealing all her previous irritation. " I was wondering where you went off to. You've always been such an elusive person." She carefully picked her way through Howl's mess of a room, a brief flash of a grimace and disgust fluttering past her face as she managed to worm her way to his bed. " To the common people, they would think you'd vanish into thin air." She chuckled lightly at her joke, sitting down on his bed. " Of course, I would know better. I know all your tricks after all."

Deftly, he chose a rather extravagant piece of clothing, stitched neatly at the seams and edges. It was trimmed and laced with gold, which gleamed in the morning sun, dyed in a deep emerald green. He examined it from every corner, inspecting for any smudges or tears. When he found none, he absently noted that it carried with it a fresh scent of cleanliness.

" It particularly brings out the color of your hair more," she complimented brightly. " Did you choose it because it reminded you of my eyes?" She purposely fluttered her thick, black eyelashes at his direction, pompously waiting for a praise of flattery.

Frowning, he suddenly discarded the shirt to the bed. She squawked in alarm and quickly ducked to avoid it. Howl rummaged through his closet for another shirt, promptly ignoring her shrill protests, just as the tossed shirt itself. " At least warn me when you're about to do that," she grumbled, rearranging herself back on the bed, smoothing out the crumpling creases in her dress. To her annoyance, he wasn't paying attention to her, too occupied in picking another shirt to wear, rather than her.

At last, Howl chose a more simpler shirt. There were no fancy trimmings or embellishments on it. It was plain blue color, so simple and plain that it could be easily found at any store. A few spots of dirt could be found in several places and the blue color was bleached into a dull, bedraggled undertone. She cast a disdainful eye to, in her opinion, the rather deplorable rag that did not deserve to be called a shirt. " Please do tell me that you aren't wearing that thing," she hissed, regarding the shirt as if it would leap from his fingers and attack her upon sight.

Quite proud of himself, Howl smiled delightedly as he slid the shirt over his head and over his arms. It fit snugly around his shoulders and chest, reaching the edges of his elbows, tucked neatly underneath his leggings.

" Urgh," she frowned. " I cannot believe that you're wearing peasant clothing. It's not becoming of you."

He brushed past her, humming a brief tune, quite pleased with himself. With another exasperated huff, she hurriedly trailed after him. He sped down to the kitchen, calling Calcifer to make him breakfast. To his surprise, when he reached the kitchen, there was no Calcifer merrily burning away at the fireplace. " Calcifer has much better things to do than to cook for you," she chided airily. " Or have you forgotten that your fire demon isn't bonded to you anymore? Not that it really matters." She leaned forward until her chin rested at his shoulder, her soft breath tickling his cheek. " I can cook for you. You used to love my cooking."

His eyes flicked over to the wooden table, where a neat little meal of eggs and bacon was set for him, left by someone whom she despised quite venomously. Captivated by the delicious smell, Howl immediately sauntered over obediently to his breakfast. She nearly fell over at his sudden movement, glowering all the more as she enviously watched him gobble up the eggs and bacon. " My eggs and bacon are much better than _hers_," she scathingly said.

Once done, Howl inspected any remaining crumbs left on the plate. As if to spite her, he lapped them up, his lips exaggeratedly smacking at each bite. Now grinning from ear to ear, (perhaps after hearing her spluttering dismay), he practically skipped over to the door, fiddling with the knob, until it was set at the purple. To the garden at the Waste.

" Why there?" she inquired bitterly, even though she already knew. He ignored her as he opened the door and was immediately greeted by the sweet scent of flowers. For miles out, there was nothing but a myriad of colors beckoning and welcoming the two of them.

Upon seeing this and fully knowing why Howl has been ignoring since, she abruptly asked him. " Tell me, what does_ she_ have that I don't?" When he didn't answer, her voice rose, now shrill and panicky. " Why aren't you answering me? Is it because of_ her_? She turned you against me, isn't it? I knew it! I knew it! It's all her fault! That witch!" Hysterics were overcoming her. But she didn't care. She cared for nothing. Except Howl.

He began walking out to the garden without even a flicker of knowledge that she existed.

" If you don't answer me, I shall - I shall presently kill myself!" she shrieked.

It was then that Howl turned around. She stared breathlessly at him, hope and satisfaction swelling in her. But his eyes held no sympathy for her. " Don't be silly," he told her impertinently. His face showed little emotion, as if it were carved out of stone and marble. Even his usually expressive eyes held not its accustomed twinkle.

" I - I will!" she blubbered, voice trembling. " If that's what it will take for you to speak to me."

" Then, you are a fool," Howl disdainfully said, turning away from her.

Desperation clawed and choked her. " Then, why aren't you answering me?" she demanded, hot tears running down her powdered cheeks. " You used to speak to me all the time. Told me your worries, your joys, your fears. Now, since _she_ came, you don't speak to me anymore. Don't I mean anything to you anymore, H-?"

" - Howl?"

He spun around and his eyes immediately softened and glowed at the sight of his beloved. " Yes, my darling?"

Sophie, his beautiful, lovely, wonderful Sophie, stood before him in this amazing garden, tilting her head at him, half concerned. " Is everything all right?" she asked, her pretty little voice flowing throughout the fields of flowers. " I could have sworn that I heard you talking to someone." She peered curiously over his shoulder, towards the empty doorway.

Without a word, he swept over to her and bestowed kisses upon her. One for her forehead. One for her nose. Two for her cheeks. Several for her eyelashes. He held her tight, his cheek nuzzling against her silvery, soft hair. They smelled like strawberries and cream today. He could care less that the smudges on her apron melted into his shirt.

" Well, isn't someone in a good mood this morning," Sophie commented, pleasantly surprised, cheeks tinted.

" Only when you're around," he murmured in her ear, kissing her again, this time on the lips.

And Howl walked, hand in hand with Sophie, away from the door, where _she_ stood, watching helplessly. In her desperation, she yelled until her voice was hoarse and stamped her foot angrily in a very unladylike manner, calling his name, demanding that he returned, cursing him, cursing Sophie, cursing their house, cursing the flowers, cursing nothing but the air she breathed. But Howl had no fear for memories of the past.

After all, that was all the Witch of the Waste was to him.


End file.
